A toddler heads to college (but not yet…)

Posted on May 29, 2014 by bob in EdNote

Toddlers are experiencing one of the many mobility milestones they will encounter, and master, as they progress from dependence to independence. The end result of these various milestones is them driving away to college, barely two years with a license, their car piled dangerously high with clothes, computer gear, musical instruments, toilet paper, a laundry basket and gosh knows what else. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.

At the toddler stage they’re no longer dependent on parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles for their movement from point A to point B. Or, put another way, from point where-they-were, to point where’d-they-go! They are walking, maybe a bit wobbly at first, but definitely under their own power. And the power of that mobility brings smiles and grimaces from one instant to the next.

Like toddlers everywhere, our granddaughter has the ability to walk, soon to run, toward whatever she wants, whether it’s a ball, the twitching tail of the family cat, an old grape that’s been hiding under the table for a week, or a pair of scissors left on the coffee table. They’re young, they’re unknowing, they’re naive , but you’d be mistaken if you think toddlers don’t know they have us, at least the grandparents, in the tiny palms of their tiny little hands. Just watch as they amble toward another room, or around a corner, turning to see if: 1) we’re following, or 2) we’re going to tell them not to go there.

Our own children, now 31 and 27, approached the toddler stage rather abruptly. One minute they were crawling, quickly, but not too fast to be nabbed if headed for, say, our black Lab’s food bowl. Then, as if a switch had been thrown, they were racing around the house like their pants were on fire, darting around corners almost too fast to catch. At first, just climbing into an adult-size chair was sport enough, bringing them immense satisfaction for having scaled Mount Everest without a guide, water, ropes or oxygen. Climbing over the rail of the baby bed was another mobility milestone.

This particular milestone startled me and my husband awake in the middle of the night when the thud of a body on the carpet snapped us to attention. Before we realized what had happened, around the corner comes our toddler, shaking off the fall, ready to climb into bed and spend the night with mom and dad. But that’s another story.

While toddling has its downside – they can move, quicker than you might think, toward danger – the mobility independence they’re exerting manifests itself in many more small, but delightful ways.

Standing in the kitchen one evening preparing dinner, my husband was playing with our granddaughter in the den. Or so I thought.

“You’ve got company,” he said.

Before I could turn, a pair of toddler arms wrapped around my legs and hugged with all their might. That upturned face, angelic, innocent, was all I needed to delay dinner. Some things just have priority.

A child calling out for your attention is one thing, but when your toddler – child or grandchild – under their own power, seeks you out to express the toddler-equivalent of “I want to be with you,” that act of mobility independence, targeting you alone, is enough to keep thoughts of cars and college away for another day.

Sandra Polizos, Editor

Sandra Polizos